


We Are All the Same

by teddybluesclues



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adding tags as we go!, Blood, Body Horror, Chapter Four Tags are..., Chapter two tags are as follows:, Deaf Character, Drugs, F/F, Guns, Knives, Mild Gore, Torture, choking (the non-sexy kind), deaf!character, i wouldn't say like graphic depictions of torture but like idk so im tagging it just in case, raven will be showing up, they're used for medicinal purposes but just thought i'd mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybluesclues/pseuds/teddybluesclues
Summary: The forest rarely betrayed you, but when it did, you were usually deserving.You're not sure what you did to deserve this.*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *AU where instead of capturing Lincoln, the Sky Crew took the Grounders' young healer, Nova. They're not what she expected. She's a lot more then what they bargained for.





	1. Nova

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bit of an AU where instead of capturing Lincoln, the Sky Crew take the Grounders' healer. I've only seen the first season of the show and that was a year ago but I'm going to try my best to remember what exactly went down. I think it'll be fairly close to the show's timeline for the first bit and then I'm just gonna go wild with plot and characters. Bare with me. Also, to give you context for some of Nova's behaviour, she's deaf. :)

Last you remember, you were running through the woods, the trees whipping past you as you dodged through the thick underbrush and over logs. You were under the impression that the thick moss was silencing your steps. The forest rarely betrayed you, but when it did, you were usually deserving. 

You're not sure what you did to deserve this. 

You woke up feeling like your stomach was being pulled through your throat. The nausea was overwhelming. And all you wanted was to lie on the floor and let the dirt keep you cool. You go to bend over, but find the floor cold, and shiny? A ground you were unfamiliar with. Most grounds were cold and dirt, or made from slabs of wood. But this, this odd metal floor, was somehow more painful then the floors of your home. It had no give, no release. Just solid and sharp. Like ice. 

Your head is aching, and throbbing with each beat of your heart. It's slow, sluggish. Annoying. Your crinkle your nose at the acrid smell of blood. Something's bleeding. Someone. Yourself. You blink, trying to clear your vision of the blurry spots, until finally, you can make out their faces. There's only a few, and on a good day, you could take them. Not easily, but you could. Today is not a good day. You know weakness when you see it. 

You reach for your blade, but your wrists are bound by metal bracelets. They ache. 

Someone grabs a hold of your chin, forcing you to look at them. They must have been talking. You don't know for how long, but you imagine a while judging from the anger in the man's dark eyes. 

He'd be handsome if he wasn't being such an asshole. 

Whipping your head back to release yourself from his grip, you immediately regretted it. Your brain felt like it was going to explode from the agonizing pressure. And then again, when the dark eyed man grabbed your hair, yanked on it. 

He was yelling something, you could tell from the saliva that flung past his lips, the way his --

A blow to the side of your head made you fall back into darkness.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The second time you awoke, there was a different boy - no, man - in front of you. This one had a sharp, angular nose and a sneer that made your blood - or what was remaining - run cold. Despite his smaller size, this was one you were wary of. You watch him the most. He moves like a tightly coiled snake, always ready to strike. The knife he keeps in his back pocket is always so close, but so far. 

The nausea was manageable until he brought out the knife. You couldn't help but flinch and fight back vomit. Pulling against the metal bracelets, you tried to shrink yourself away, but the man, he laughed. You could see it in the way his chest heaved in and out. How his shoulders straightened. You saw a flicker of hesitation on the brown eyed man, but nothing more. It was getting harder to stay awake. The boy waved the knife in front of your face, taunting you. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you went for his sex, kneeing him where it hurt. He keeled over, retching. You made sure to look into the eyes of the older man, and the message was clear. 

_Your move._

* * * * * * * * * *

"I'm just saying, Monty, the world would be so much better with wifi. Think we could rig something like that down here? Hook it up to the station?" Jasper asked as the two friends trudged towards camp. Hunting was... an adventure. A fruitless one. Not that he'd ever been good at dexterity or reflexes, but damn, dude's gotta eat.  
"Gee, with these five sticks here, I reckon we could get a while slew of wifi. No, you dick, I can't rig wifi here. What part of geological biology sounds techy to you?"  
"All of it."  
They stopped in front of the makeshift fence. It wasn't too shabby. The few metal pieces that were salvageable from the crash helped to reinforce the soggy logs and vines that made it up. Jasper was fairly certain that as long as there weren't any strong winds or man-eating rabbits around, they'd be fine. Mostly. Hopefully. Probably not. He rubbed at his solar plexus.  
"You okay?"  
Jasper nodded. Waved it off. "Yeah, just sore."  
"Maybe Clarke should look at it, make sure it's not infected."  
"It's not infected, dude. I got it covered. Besides, it doesn't hurt that bad."  
"You got speared in the chest and you're telling me it doesn't hurt that bad?"  
"It hurts less then the spear itself, so I count that as a win."

* * * * * * * *

A vibration like thunder rumbles underneath your aching knees. The hatch on the floor opens to reveal a blonde girl; her hands are bloody, and leave fingerprints on the rungs of the ladder. It can't be your blood, you realize, which only means someone else has been hurt. Nykos? Lincoln? How many others do they have? Your right ear starts to ring from the pressure. It feels full and you're not sure if it's full of blood or just an illusion. 

She stops at the sight of you, and for a split second, you think you see pity. It quickly disappears into determination. Chit. 

She says something to the dark eyed man, you can't make it out. They speak in hushed tones, small movements; a conversation meant only for the two. She turns to you, and says something. she's desperate, you can tell that much. Her eyes are screaming, her upper lip twitching every few seconds. Not quite a snarl, but not a smile either. You don't like it. They're all talking to each other; not facing you, and skies above, it's annoying. After a few minutes of arguing, you can feel yourself nodding off. 

A shiver erupts from your spine and you can't help but shake. It's cold. Everything is cold. The floor, the shackles. You. Them. Everything and everyone is cold. You wonder vaguely how long you'll be there. Will snow come and go? Will you live that long? Will your family? You curse yourself for not sharing more with Kylanda. She had potential to surpass even yourself. 

A shadow blocks out the sun, so you look up to see the girl. The glare off the roof makes it hard to make out her words.

"--ell me --ow to save -- im."

She says it again, and it clicks.  
_Tell me how to save him._

 _Him?_ You look beyond her, behind yourself, and see no one in need of saving. Not a drop of blood in the room except yours. Speaking of which, your vision was starting to blur. Blood loss. You hoped it wasn't internal. 

The dull roar again. The hatch opens and up pops a head. And then some arms, a torso, and a pair of freakishly long legs. It took a second to focus, but once you do, you couldn't stop the air from leaving your lungs. It was him, the man with the spear in his chest. Sans the spear, obviously. He was alive, and according to the flush to his cheeks, doing well. Thank skies. The last time he'd left your tent, it'd been on boards. 

He knew what you were, how you were. At least, you hoped his drug addled mind at the time remembered.  
"--oly chit."

*********************  
"Holy shit," Jasper repeated as the sight sunk in. The girl who'd saved him, the healer, was kneeling before Clarke and Bellamy. Her head bleeding, wrists handcuffed. A steady stream of blood clouded over her eye, and was starting down her pale face and neck. She looked awful. He went to close the space between them, but a firm hand to his chest stopped him. "Back off, Bellamy."  
"She's one of them."  
Jasper shook off Bellamy's hand and knelt before the girl.  
"Yeah, I know."  
Taking her face in his hands, he tried his best to assess the damage, but medicine wasn't his forte, by any means. It was supposed to be Clarke's, but judging from the scowl on her face, he wasn't sure if the blows to the girl's face was from her or one of the guys. He hoped the latter. Actually, he hoped that maybe the girl was just really clumsy and had done this to herself, but Murphy's bruised knuckles said otherwise.  
"What the hell did you guys do?"  
Murphy, the asshole, stepped forward.  
"We need information."  
"Info? On what?"  
"To save Finn. We found a kit on her - It had herbs and powders - we think it could counteract the poison from the arrow."  
"And you thought beating the hell out of her was the way to find out?"  
Jasper turned his attention back towards the girl. Her eyes glossy, one pupil bigger then the other in the light. _A concussion_ he remembered. One too many trips to the medical bay after he'd fallen off his bunk bed. It was a bad one too, from the looks of it.  
"She's got a concussion, ya know that?"  
"She shot you with an arrow, I'd say a concussion is well within what she deserves."  
Jasper scrubbed a hand down his face.  
"She didn't shoot me. She saved me."  
"W-what?"  
"She's the healer of her village.. Or whatever it is. She's the one who took the spear out, patched me up, etc."  
The girl mumbled something. Or groaned, Jasper couldn't quite tell what. Taking a finger, he pointed to her, and then flashed a thumbs up. He hoped it translated. She sighed and nodded slowly. Glancing over to her right hand, she gave him a thumbs up. It was shaky, but there.  
"She doesn't talk."  
"She does, you just weren't looking properly."  
He waited for them to understand. Clarke got it first, a quiver to her voice.  
"She's deaf."


	2. The Beautiful Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for the following: choking, guns, blood, shackles, knives.

Seconds bled into minutes bled into hours. It was growing dark again, the moon shining in through a hole in the metal room that held you. It was getting colder too. You missed your blankets, the warmth of them. 

You missed a lot of things. 

Your stomach growled angrily at you. You could feel it, and wondered vaguely if it would garner any sympathy from your captors. Judging from the look on Brown Eyes, that was unlikely. Sunray Girl, the blonde, she just looked angrier and angrier every time you glanced her way. You don't know what she wants. 

Chasber. That was the name of the boy who had the spear in his chest. You can't help but think of the name as odd, but no matter. You were running out of time. 

Sunray Girl marched towards you once again, and you flinch. But the familiar rumble under your knees alerts you to the hatch opening. 

A girl. A very, _very_ beautiful girl. 

Chit. 

Her eyes widen in surprise, and her mouth forms a tiny "oh." She's surprised. Interesting. She's at your side in an instant, and it takes everything you have not to melt into her warm touch. 

You had assumed that the others, though you weren't sure how many, had been made aware of your presence. 

Perhaps not your state. You swallow, and look over to your shackled wrists, which are scabbing over. Sore as land below. Your face, too, is sore. Your eye has swollen shut. Your lip split long ago and has since stopped bleeding. 

Chasber is talking, no, yelling, at Brown Eyes and Sharp Nose. 

Huh. 

* * * * * * * *

"I can't believe you guys!"

"Jasper. She has intel, which we need, to keep everyone safe."

"So you decided to piss off the Grounders? Real smart plan, Bellamy. You don't think she's important to them? She's their _healer._ "

"We had to take her to save Finn," Clarke argued. 

"How's she going to save him without her hands, huh? Or her eyes?"

"We'll deal with that later. You can understand her, right?"

Jasper nods, "Sort of? It's not an exact science. She's using home signs."

"What the hell are home signs?" Murphy asked, picking at the handle of his knife. 

"They're - They're like homemade sign language. My great grandma, she had to have them when they first got on the Arc. Took years for her to learn the actual stuff."

"And you know it?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, I can only guess, because it's homemade. No guarantee of accuracy."

* * * * * * * * * * 

The girl, she's looking at you, and for the first time in what feels like days, you see despair. Hurt. 

She doesn't even know you, and yet here she is, trying to rip the shackles off your hands.

You could be a threat. 

_You are._

Right. 

You hesitate, but once she gets your hand free, you wrap it around her throat, clutch her tight to your chest. You can feel the breath leave her lungs, the exhale of air as you lean back. She's not choking, you make sure of that; not going to pass out, but it's enough of a warning, enough of a threat that you might be able to get out unharmed. You need them to know how serious you are. How scared - no, scary - you are. 

Regret already riles itself up in your stomach. The girl tries to throw her elbow back, but you tense your muscles in time, it hurts, absolutely it hurts, but you've had enough. 

You look at her from the corner of your eyes, and the shame, the shame, it tries to smother you.

Something circular presses against the side of your skull, you turn, and you don't understand.

Brown Eyes is standing in front of you, pressing something against your head. It's small, metal, and rests easily in the palm of his hand. A longer, tubular piece of metal extends out from the base in his palm. It's cold. 

What is it?

You eye him curiously, and move your head away, back, but he keeps it pressed against you. Obviously, whatever he's doing with it doesn't affect you. No sound escapes it, so far as you can tell, and no clouds of dust or sharp edges. Nothing. 

Your hand is wet now, and you realize it's tears. The girl, the beautiful girl, is crying. Streams of it. Your stomach pangs again, and you pretend its hunger. 

Chasber is signing at you. He takes his hand, and pulls it away from his throat, mouthing. 

_Let go._

You shake your head. 

You want to sign back, but the girl only managed to get your one hand free, and you're currently using it to keep her against you. Chit. 

_Let go_. He signs again, this time more frantic. Repeating the action, over and over and over until claw marks have etched against his throat. 

Brown Eyes pulls a small piece of metal back where the device hits the apex of his thumb and pointer finger. 

Chasber grows more animated, more desperate. Whatever it is that Brown Eyes is doing, you realize, it might not be physical. It might be something full of magic. Has he cursed you now? 

Slowly, you let the girl go. She immediately hugs Brown Eyes with everything she has, her knuckles white as she clutches the edges of his jacket. She stares back at you, fear and anger and betrayal written all over her face. 

What have you done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, Nova's spelling of Jasper's name will change, once she hears it. As it stands, she's basing his name off of how she sees it. So J becomes Ch and 'p' becomes a 'b', and so on. Jasper = Chasber. Hope that makes sense!


	3. Faded Into Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Sorry about the lack of updates, folks, real life got a little chaotic. Hopefully, I'll be able to continue with this! Enjoy!

_What have you done?_

You’ve made a few mistakes. The first one being that you decided to join Nykos and Lincoln on their hunt. Always trying to prove that you could both save life and take it, if required. 

Perhaps not the best method considering you weren’t sure what the Skai Krew desired, but well, hindsight is... What was that saying? 20/20. Of course. Odd phrases from years before your time. Ones who’s references had long since faded into dust. 

So. 

Your wrists ached, your face hurt, and you’ve just upset the one person who could help you escape this hell pod. Chit. 

Looking to Chasber, he seemed relieved that you had let the beautiful girl go, though you still didn’t know why. The metal piece in Brown Eye’s hand was now being tucked into the side of his waist pants, and you cringed. Something to be feared like that should not be kept so close to the skin. 

Sunray Girl stared at you, a scowl on her face that rivaled your father’s. Disappointment. What did she have to be disappointed about?

Beautiful Girl has stopped crying, and she glances to Chasber with determined eyes. After a silent conversation, Beautiful Girl approached you again, pulling something out of her jacket.

Brown Eyes grabbed her arm, but she shrugged him off. Huh. She kneeled in front of you, and you noticed the way the light shimmered through her hair. It was brown, like the earth under moss, with touches of fire to it. 

When you glance down to her hands, you see your satchel. 

Thank skies, you could finally apply relief to your aching body. All the vials were still intact, if a bit shuffled. Someone had gone through them and not bothered to place them back in rightful order. You glanced to Sunray Girl and found her looking to Brown Eyes, shaking her head. 

Chasber kneeled down next to Beautiful Girl and started motioning, his eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to find the words. It was funny, to watch him like this. You knew from the speed of his lips that he was not often without words, but here, and now, he was at a loss. 

He raised his thumb. _Okay? ___

__You nodded. He nodded, almost as if agreeing with himself._ _

em >He motioned to the group around you. _We._

He put his hands out, and then brought them to his chest again, in desperation. _Take? Pull?_

His tongue pulling back, and as he moved through the word, the corners of his mouth tightened. _N...ee? Knee?_

_Need._

__Ah._ _

Index finger towards you. _You._

_We need you._

__Chasber sighed, lowered his head into his hands. Was this part of the question?_ _

__Taking your one free hand, you touch him, bring his face up to the light. There is nothing but quiet pain in his eyes. Worry, too. You want to help him, so all you do is nod._ _

__He starts again._ _

__* * * *_ _

__“Jasper, we don’t have enough time to play charades.”_ _

__“I’m working on it, okay? She needs to understand,” he turned back towards the girl, and tried his best to make her understand. How do you ask someone for help? Help that you don’t need?_ _

__“I don’t... I don’t how to tell her,” Jasper stated finally._ _

__Gently, Octavia took her friend’s hand, and with a glance to her older brother, replied, “What if we show her?”_ _

__“Absolutely not.”_ _

__“She could kill him,” Clarke argued, the fear threatening to silence her voice._ _

__“He’ll die if we have to spend any more time up here trying to explain. She needs to see him. Bellamy?”_ _

__After a moment, Bellamy nods._ _

__“Tell her that if he dies, she does too.”_ _

__“I think she’ll understand.”_ _

__Lifting up the hatch, Bellamy started on his way down, “Can’t be too careful.”_ _

__* * * *  
When they first remove your shackles, you think you’re dead. Or on your way to die. You’ve been in battle, you’ve thrust swords through others’ chests, but this? This is not the way you’d thought you’d die. By the hands of these... No. No, you refused to go this way._ _

__Chasber and Beautiful Girl help you to your feet, and for a brief moment, there’s agonizing pain that nearly sends you to your knees once more. You know that it’s the blood finding its place again, but skies above, it burns. Finally, when you are able to step forward, the blood rushes to your head, and you nearly fall. The two at your sides are stronger then you thought they’d be, and gentler too. They take their time, and eventually, you make it to the bottom of the ladder. It felt like weeks ago that you made your voyage up and yet..._ _

__The lighting is worse down below, and you know it’s from the lack of natural light. You wonder briefly if they’ll kill you inside, or hang you from a tree. Will your blood seep through the floor and into the earth, or will it stay within you, waiting for release? You shake your head, and regret it. The nausea's threatening to empty your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to steady yourself._ _

Your two guides let you sit on a bucket, and you go to thank them, but stop yourself. _They mustn’t know._

__Sunray girl stands in front of you again, and talking. She points to the corner, where a young man lies. He looks pale, and there’s the familiar glisten of a fever across his brow. He's not well, and there isn't much time. Chasber and Beautiful Girl are by your sides again, and you groan, not wanting to move anymore. If you must die, let it be here, in the dark and cold, where the nausea will lessen with time._ _

__It doesn’t, and they take you to the young man. He shivers ever so slightly, despite the blankets that are draped across him. You recognize one of Nykos’ poison arrows sticking out of his chest. He always did have excellent aim for maximum pain._ _

__It will not end well._ _

__Sunray Girl places your satchel onto the boy’s chest, and points at each of the vials._ _

__You don’t need words to understand._ _

_Save him._

__Slowly, your fingers drift along the vials, feeling each one. The thin glass that contains the various powders and liquids were given to you by your mother, on the eve of your sixteenth summer. The moon had been high that night, and surely, that meant good things were in store._ _

__None of the vials have been opened thankfully, though if they opened the last one they’d be in for a rather nasty burn._ _

__You stare at Sunray Girl, keeping your face neutral. Waiting. You have to wait. Balance out your options. Save him, and save yourself?_ _

__The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you feel it, the distinctive sharpness of a cool blade against your carotid artery. Sharp Nose is behind you, and you can feel every part of him, his chest flush to your back. You can feel... everything. The way his breath is hot, and the stiffness that lingers between his legs. The tightly coiled snake within him is preparing to attack, and you wish you had a knife of your own._ _

__You glance to Chasber, who, underneath the fear in his eyes, merely nods. His mouth moves, and you see,_ _

_Save him._

__That settles it then._ _

__You nod._ _


	4. This New Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely people! Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been without internet for a while and this was the first time I've had it for longer than ten minutes, so here we are! 
> 
> I'll probably upload a few chapters today, just so you have more to read and hopefully enjoy! Your comments are so wonderful to read and really get me inspired! <3

Admittedly, agreeing to save him was easier said than it was done.

Saving this Skai Krew member would be difficult; there were boundless things that could - and very likely would - go wrong. Depending on how and where the arrow struck, the damage could be extensive, something even the most skilled of healers would be unable to save.

The intensity of Chasber’s gaze rivalled with the desperation in Sunray’s form. Her hands were clenched, her knuckles white and purple from bruises.

And of course, there was the blade. The one that was so tightly nestled against your carotid artery that you saw beads of blood cascade down the metal and onto Nose’s hands. His ease and exhilaration that shone in his eyes made it obvious that this was not the first time he had experienced that particular feeling. You wondered vaguely if the other Skai Krew knew what Nose was capable of. You wondered more if they welcomed it.

Sunray closed the space between herself and the bleeding boy, and you realized that behind that desperation and anger was something much deeper.

Love.

You had to fight the urge to scream that it was no good, that the chances of the boy’s survival were slimmer than the moon on a cool night, but you kept your mouth shut. You were good at that. Most times. Silence was your ally, in many ways more than it was a hinderance.

And yet, at times like these, with your hands bound and surrounded by strange people that yearned for blood, you wanted to show them your power.

Reaching for the boy appeared to be a mistake, because the second you did, Nose’s hand wrapped around your front, kept you close to him. Too close, you could smell his breath, feel the heat and hardness of him. It was sickening, and like the previous few days, it took energy not to spill the contents of your stomach.

So you brought your hands back, and made sure to keep a tight grip on his hand that clutched your stomach, your own hands aching to break the calloused skin of his fingers. No ideas would venture their way into his mind, you would make sure of it.

After a moment, Nose released you, thank skies.

Chasber was by your side in an instant, and with a blade of his own, he cut you free. Blood flowed to your fingers and for an instant, they burned with agony.

Slowly, with your eyes still on Sunray and Brown Eyes, you moved towards the boy. He was shaking more now, the poison pumping further into his system as more adrenaline fought to fight his fever. It would be a losing battle, you suspected, but, like the stars strung up in the night sky, your life was tied to his.

Distantly, you hear your mother’s voice; see the way her lips were set in a firm line, her hands on her hips. You had tried to heal your friend’s skinned knee, but infection had taken over.

_Remember, Nova, in order to clean a wound, you must be clean first._

Thankfully, your friend had lived. You hoped the boy that lay before you would be as lucky.

So, taking in the sight of the dark room, you searched for a source of water or alcohol to clean your blood caked hands. Sensing your intentions, Sunray held up a pitcher of water. And like your mother’s mouth had been, hers too was set in a firm line. You nod in thanks, though neither of you know it to be truth.

First, you needed to determine where the arrow had struck and how deep. His breathing was shallow, and the area around the entrance point was bruised and uneven. Shards of bone had crept up, were aching to be lead astray by blood and muscle. It wouldn’t do. The intercostal muscle was visible, and when you pulled the skin aside, Chasber turned away and Sunray girl somehow went three shades paler than you thought was possible for a girl of her complexion.

Your own nausea was dissipating, finally, and with it came a distant ringing. Thank Skies, your world would flood with Sound soon enough. The respect you carried for your Silence was starting to wear thin.

Taking a vial of white powder, you emptied some of it into the wound, and instantly, you heard a scream. It was thick like fog, full of agony. You couldn’t help but cringe from the grating quality to it, and then prayed that no one had seen.

Chasber had, you knew it the second you saw his brows furrow.

Chit.

The boy arched his back and thinking quick, you looked at the taught muscles that collected around his spine, his abdomen. He was strong, and you were grateful. Strength would be required to survive what you were about to do.

Sunray’s voice was lower than what you expected, but her fear made it higher, more grating, too.

     “What the hell did she do?! Finn? Finn! What did she do?!”

Ignoring her, you learned that the arrow hadn’t gone straight through, which made your job both easier and more difficult. One less wound to care about, but now, the arrow could prove to be troublesome in its removal.

After a moment, the boy relaxed, and you saw his pupils dilate as the powder overtook his senses.

The blade was at your throat in an instant. You kept your hand on the boy’s chest, around the arrow, you had a limited amount of time before the powder wore off, and you would rather not waste more just to ensure he felt little.

Chasber was a few steps away now, and you could tell the wheels were turning in his mind. What were you? What were you capable of?

Everyone was shouting then, and without having heard their voices before, it left you lost, unsure who’s voice was who’s, whether the tone in one was the same as another, or implied something much worse.

The voice that was closest was Nose, and as much as you hated what you had to do, it needed to be done. You need space, supplies, and help, and none of those things would come to you if you stayed Silent.

Nose kept his mouth near your ear, the crook of your neck as he held you close.

     “Bellamy, we don’t need her. She’s one of them.”

You felt your mouth turn in a sneer despite your better judgment, and spoke your first words in this new Sound,

    “Press that blade to my throat again, and you will lose it inside your intestines.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there anything you guys would like to see happen to Nova? Any experiences you're interested in seeing? I'm pretty open to people's ideas, so feel free to share anything you'd like, and I'll see what I can do! Much love!


	5. Aflame

The silence that filled the space was tangible, thick with questions and unease. Bellamy couldn’t help but feel his jaw drop in shock.

She could hear. And speak. In English, no less.

The Grounder kept his gaze, her green eyes seemed to pierce through his skin like daggers. Her lip was still half-snarled, and even Murphy seemed surprised, his knife faltering just a touch.

Bellamy glanced to Clarke, who looked just as surprised as he felt, and he felt a kinship with her when her eyes turned dark. Hell yeah, he felt angry, too. All this time, she had been pretending, and Jasper - Octavia, too - had fallen for it. She wasn’t some helpless girl who ventured too far, but some agent - Oh God.

If she could hear, she could hear everything. Every fear, every tactic that they had discussed. Everything. He had been so stupid, talking like she wasn’t there - like she wouldn’t know their every downfall, every fault in their defense. His head was spinning, sinking in a flood of anxiety. What had they discussed in front of her? What did she know?

The look she gave him was that of confusion, now. And a reluctant sigh fell from her bowed lips.

“Do you want me to save your friend or not?”

Clarke nodded dumbly, and then gripped the girl’s hand in her own, not in kindness, he could tell that much, but a threat.

“What did you give him?”

“It ices the wound. Makes him feel like he is The Sky.”

The Grounder turned back to Finn, and seemed to regard him with care. Bellamy bit back a bitter laugh. As if she cared about any of them. They had spent the better part of the last week beating the shit out of her, and here she was, going to play doctor? Save one of them? Un-fucking-likely.

Jasper spoke next, his voice quivering,

“You can hear? All this time you could hear?”

“No,” she stated simply, as if that was the end of the conversation. Bellamy hated her. Hated the way she seemed to command the room. His room. His command. This was his group, not hers. How dare she -- Murphy seemed to come back to himself then, and when he did, he kept the blade by his side, always ready, never far.

He glanced at Bellamy, and the two nodded in understanding.

She wouldn’t live through the night.

 

*

 

Jasper couldn’t believe it. He clutched at his chest, where the spike had shot through him and he remembered.

_It was so cold, and the hands that touched him, they felt like fire. They burned his chest, his face, his wrist. Everything was aflame. He had never known fire before, not on the Ark, but here, it was all he had ever felt. And yet, when the hands left him, he screamed. It couldn’t be all that ever was. All that heat, all that ice, it couldn’t be the only thing he would ever feel._

_His grandmother had taught him about Heaven and Hell. Had signed the stories with phrases he had never seen before, phrases that only existed to her._

_It was these signs that he saw again. Or something akin to them. The fluidity of the hands that burned like fire, the way they flew above him, snapped for his attention. His grandmother’s weathered face was before him, her mouth moving in time with her words._

_“Stay awake. Awake. Eyes. Open.”_

_He tried, but the darkness, it called to him. Seemed to whisper his name in a singsong voice. It was gentle, but this voice, this face, these hands, they didn’t whisper, didn’t sing, but screamed. Thick with an accent that didn’t belong to any known place._

_“Stay awake!”_

Jasper jolted back to reality, his breathing ragged. Her voice. Nova’s voice. She had spoken to him before, kept him from falling into darkness. This same voice called for him once more,

“Chasber.”

He blinked, and there she was, standing just a few steps away, her hands still clasped to the arrow that jutted from Finn’s chest. A fine sheen of sweat loomed near her brow, though she didn’t seem to notice.

“I need your help.”

He nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a few more chapters to upload (we're not near the end, I promise!) but I've only written a few chapters past this point. :)


	6. Drowning

Chasber nodded, and you were silently thankful that he seemed to trust you still. He closed the space between you, and taking the pitcher from the table, washed his hands of the earth that caked into his fingernails. You couldn’t stop the small smile that passed your lips. Fast learner.

And then, Beautiful Girl was standing beside you, her eyes swimming with a desire to help. She too washed her hands, and kept them close to her chest, her heart. You wondered what her heart sounded like.

Was it steady?

Was it racing, like yours?

Was it racing with fear?

Fear that seemed to threaten your brain, your thinking, your knowledge. It was without this thinking that you spoke,

“Thank you.”

Beautiful Girl merely nodded, and you wished she would speak. Surely her voice would sound like birds, or would it be heavy sounding, like your friend across the river who had hurt her voice with childhood sickness? You ached to know.

“Octavia.”

Beautiful Girl turned to Brown Eyes, and at last, you knew her name. It was jagged, the way the syllables fell over Brown Eyes’ lips. It filled the throat, made your tongue lift to the roof of your mouth to make the right sound. The end seemed to flow out of your mouth like a breath of air.

Okteivia.

It was glorious. You wanted to say her name like a prayer, have it live in your mouth like it was at home there.

“What do we do?” Chasber’s voice brought you from your thoughts, and you realized that you had been staring. If your father could see you now, lusting after some -- You shake the thought away, and get back to work. 

“You keep your hands on him, press with all your weight, but flat,” you splay your one free hand out to show, “on his stomach, his legs, too.”

You turn to Sunray, and continue, wanting to be clear,

“I did not lie to you.”

“Just save him. Please.” The last word slipped past her lips silently, and you understood her then, as much as you wished you were different. Had this been on your land, in your village, you would hope that one of the Skai Krew would do the same, should you need it.

“Hold him here,” you motion to across the upper half of his chest, and get a nod in response. “He must be still, if he moves, he will die. Quickly now, we do not have much time.”

Sunray nodded again, and after a beat of silence, Octavia was by your side once more, and Brown Eyes too. An unpleasant, but not unwelcome addition. With a nod to all of them, you grabbed the arrow around the base, and slowly started to pull. It wasn’t a clean shot, the way the arrow had burrowed itself deep into --

Chit.

Pressing your ear against his chest, you heard it, the steady hissing of air escaping, and not through his mouth.

Chitchitchitchit.

“W-what? What is it? What did you do?”

“The arrow - it struck his lung, I have to...” You have to remove it, and fast, the boy could not live with an arrow in his lung. Or live for much longer.

“I need a leaf.”

Nose snorted at that, and you couldn’t help but turn to him, fire in your eyes. “You want him to live? I need a leaf. Large, round. Go.”

He left, though it seemed more out of loyalty to Brown Eyes than to you. Just as well, you hoped he’d return quick.

“What’s the leaf for?”

You didn't mention that it was merely because you wanted Nose to be gone, out of your space, so you supplied, 

"Stops the air from filling the chest."

You should not have mentioned the possibility, because, true to your mother’s words, possibilities often became truth when you mention their potential. Chit.

You had to work fast, and despite your better judgment, you remove the arrow with a sharp tug. Blood shot from the wound, spraying across Clarke’s face, and you hope that it won’t haunt her the way it does you.

Taking a vial from your kit, you pulled the cork out with your teeth, and no care for future need, you poured it into the wound.

The boy screamed in agony, the powder from before having worn off.

After a second, he went still. Utterly still, and for a split second, you fear that you’ve killed him. Nausea fills you once more, and you fight the urge to be sick. But then, thank skies, he takes in a lungful of air. The powder worked, sealing in the gaps, clotting the blood. You would need to do more, of course, but the immediate danger was gone.

You let out a shaky breath, and see that your hands are shaking too. It seems odd, until you feel a pain in your stomach. Hunger. Of course, skies only know how long you’ve been without food or water.

A buzzing fills your head, and then darkness swallows you whole.

 

*

 

Drowning. You’re drowning. Water slips past your lips in an uneven rhythm, trickles down the back of your nose as you struggle to breathe. You feel small, like when the rains had come, seemed to sweep away your world with a single flash of lightning. Your mother, too. Her hand outstretched to yours, aching to reach, to clutch, but with another flash, she was gone. Underwater then, just as you are now.

It’s agony. Utter agony, you don’t know how you could’ve ever begged for water to breach your lips. But it does, and after the dizziness and fear eases, you realize that the water is gone. Your mouth aches, your head too, and you want to die. Drift with the current like your mother had two summers before.

“Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

A voice without your language, without your intonations. Who called that voice their own?

Chasber.

You jolted to with a start, and hit your head off of his, sending you both backwards. Were it not for the pain or situation you would’ve laughed at the sound of empty shells colliding together, but now was not the time.

Rubbing at your sore head, you blinked back tears to stare at Chasber.

“I was just giving you water.”

“Oh.”

He held the cup out to you once more, and taking it, you sipped. Skies above, water had never tasted so good, never seemed to quench your thirst so readily.

Chasber reached for the cup, and you wrenched it away, feeling selfish. Surely you deserved to feel selfish after everything? And yet, with the look Chasber gave you, you didn’t feel as though you were. He looked at you with kindness, and understanding. God, you missed that look in someone’s eyes.

You missed your father. Nykos. Lincoln. Everyone.

It was then, and you weren’t sure how it was possible given how dehydrated you were, that tears fell. Chit. You wanted to go home. Chasber seemed to understand, and he crawled over to where you were sitting.

You realized then that you were slumped against a log, no longer inside, or trapped, but let out to the base of the camp. Other Skai Krew wandered around you, careful to keep their distance. You weren’t sure how many there were, but you gathered around a small village.

A fire pit sat just a few feet beyond Chasber, and your stomach growled.

They had built a large fence around them, it was impressive, given the lack of materials, but pathetic in comparison to the ones you knew to be effective. It would do little to hide, to protect from your family. Your chest ached at the thought, but you shook it away.

“Do you want more?”

You nod, and Chasber rose from his spot, and you did too to follow.

Tried to, at least.

Your right wrist was bound to a hole in the log by the same metal bracelet as before. Gritting your teeth, you yanked on the metal, tugged at it with as much strength as you could muster, which was not much. You were exhausted and weak from the beatings.

Chasber stared at you, his understanding replaced with sadness. Shame.

“They don’t - they don’t want you to run.”

You said nothing.

“They’re scared. And Bellamy, he...” Chasber trailed off, and it didn’t take much for you to understand. Brown Eyes - Bellomi - he wanted you dead. Or tortured for information that he now knew you could give.

Chit.

Fear and rage warred inside you, you had to leave, had to escape, had to run, to... to... It didn’t matter, you had to leave, and like a caged animal, you jerked on the bracelet. Twisted yourself around so the log was at your feet, and pulled, your free hand holding your other to keep it from breaking. It was agony, the previous scabs ripping open, and the blood flowed with ease, running rivulets down into your palm, down the chain that connected the bracelet to the log.

You pulled, and you could hear it, the sounds of the Others. The Skai Krew, whispering, some fearful, some curious. Let them be. Let them see how much of a monster the earth would let you be.

Chasber tried to get you to stop, tried to stop you from kicking at the log, but the rage in your eyes made him stop. You would kill. You have killed. Killing him would be -- 

 

It would be nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have another brief chapter to upload after this one, but I'll try to upload again soon!! Lemme know what you think! :)


	7. Lifelines

It would be nothing.

It had to be nothing, because if it was something, it meant you cared, and you couldn’t afford to care for the Skai Krew after what they had done to you. Even then, you realize, it wouldn’t be nothing.

It would mean war.

Bellamy had already decided your fate, and you knew that there was nothing you could do to prevent it, unless, somehow, you could prove your worth. Prove that your life had meaning. You could feed them wrong information, take them somewhere only you knew the way out of, but there was no guarantee that they’d let you live. There wasn’t a guarantee no matter how important you proved yourself to be, or what invaluable knowledge you had. You would die, and Bellamy or Nose or Clarke, skies, even Chasber would be the one to do it.

And then, it was there, pressed against the back of your head. The metal tube that Bellamy kept so close to his side.

It carried an unknown threat with it, so you didn’t react, just kept tugging at the bracelet, praying that you were feeling it give way, but knew that that was just wishful thinking.

A sound like lightning shot out from beside you, and you screamed as part of the log exploded into shards. Chunks of moss and dirt flung into your mouth, your eyes. You had never seen anything like it. Never heard anything so loud, so...

What was it?

You hesitated before reaching for the hole in the log, the way the grain of the wood had been blown apart from... air? What had burrowed its way through?

You turned back to Bellamy for answers, but he supplied nothing, just kept the weapon pointed towards you. Without truly understanding, you nodded and went back to sitting against the log, careful to steer clear of the hole. Whatever went in, you did not want it to come back out, make holes in you, too.

With that, Bellamy seemed to have had enough, and let you be. His gait tired as he made his way back to what you could only assume was his tent.

Chasber sat across from you, and it was then that you saw it in his eyes.

Pity.

You looked up, to the afternoon sky, exhaustion creeping in at the edges. The birds that flew overhead called to you, and you wanted nothing more than to call back. _Help me. Help me. Help me._

The forest rarely betrayed you, you knew that much. You had loved it, had called it home since your first breath. You had given your blood to it, taken it when the forest called for it. Had lived in its warmth, its earth, its life.

But here, it felt as though you were on foreign land. A whole other world. One made of pain and metal and an aching sadness. You wanted to cry from its betrayal. You were undeserving of what this foreign world had to offer.

Instead of crying, like you so desperately wanted, you let out a sigh, and felt your mind wander to nothingness, where the pain seemed to dull, and the world fade.

 

*

 

The girl’s eyes fluttered shut, and Jasper wasn’t sure whether it was exhaustion or injury that forced her to sleep. Probably both. He wanted to help, but she - she had lied to him. Had saved him, too. Crap. It would be so much easier if she was just, just an asshole. An uneducated, savage -- No. That wouldn’t be any better. She was a person, just like he was. She was capable of good, and bad, just like they all were. She also had connections that they didn’t.

Unlike the Ark, the Grounders, they were here, on earth. They might even be just outside, biding their time to strike. Would the Grounders kill them? Show them mercy?

Jasper remembered how the girl had argued with a man, one with tattoos that lined his round face, disappeared into his thick beard. The man who had shot Finn. The two had whispered in hushed tones, had signed with one another, their fingers moving so fast, in such a strange rhythm that Jasper hadn’t been able to keep up. After what seemed like a lifetime, the man had sighed, rubbed his hand down his face, and waved Nova to go ahead.

Nova was his lifeline. Maybe she could be theirs too.

He had to tell Bellamy.

 

* 

 

“Hell no.”

“Bellamy, come on! Think about it, we can’t just kill her, okay?”

“She shot Finn.” Rounding on Murphy, Jasper felt his blood pressure rise. “And Murphy’s feelings finally return! Well done, you want to pretend you give a shit now? We all know that you just want to kill her, okay? You’ve made that real obvious.”

“Shut up, Jasper.”

“Or what? You’ll stab me?”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“Guys!” The men turned to Clarke, who kept her vigil by Finn, her eyes never leaving his sleeping form. “She kept her word, Bellamy. She saved him.”

“We don’t know that. She could’ve given him something else, some slow acting poison..”

“But why? Why would she do that? She... She kept her word, Bellamy. We should keep ours.”

Bellamy sighed, and for once, Jasper felt like maybe his words had an impact, so he continued,

“She could be our liaison. Between us and the Grounders. Think about it. I mean, it worked with the pilgrims and Pocahontas.”

“I don’t have to remind you that even with Pocahontas’ help, a third of the pilgrims died, right?”

“Yeah, and the rest stole the natives’ lands, colonized them. And look how that turned out! We needed to be launched into frickin’ space because we couldn’t get along with one another!”

Jasper sighed, let his head fall into his hands as he continued, “I just. This isn’t right, Bellamy, and you know it. We can’t keep her locked up forever because she scares us.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

The group turned to face Octavia, who finally found the courage to speak. “She doesn’t scare me," she repeated, and Jasper felt a fondness tug at his chest. He'd barely said five words to her since they got on the ground, but he felt a connection with her. 

“She tried to kill you,” Bellamy said. 

“Because she wanted to escape. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing if you were in her situation.”

A beat of silence fell over the group as they considered their options.

Bellamy let out a resigned sigh, and Jasper was silently thankful. His gratitude was shortlived. 

“You've got until morning to convince her to help us or she’s done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I've got so far, but I imagine I'll have more soon, it's the uploading part that's tricky.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/con-crit are welcome, but please be kind! :)


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